Straitjacket
by Hedonism
Summary: The insane are sent to wither away in a contained environment secluded from the rest of society. Two patients go through the hardships of existing in a corrupted, filthy asylum with no one left to lean on but each other. MxM
1. Prologue: Introduction

Hello everyone! This is **Sir SmokesALot**. I suppose you could just call me "Smokes" or something. Or "Matt" if you so wish to prefer, as that is the character that I will be focusing on in this piece of work. Anyway, this is a collaboration between **XxDonMelloxX **and I. Many of you might recognize her from the finished M/M work titled **"Chocolate Kisses". **Which I highly recommend, especially if you're into some hardcore lemon/yaoi. ;P Anyway, if you are familiar with her "Mat" spelling, you won't find it here. -Chuckle- Why? Because I'm not letting her use it here. Nyaaa. 8P

Anyway, this is our first fanfiction written together, but we are roleplaying addicts together. I am her Matt respectively, and she is my Mello. Cosplay-wise as well, when we get to that.

Before we get onto the fic, I would like to mention that I know full well the effects and emotional things that those with mental issues go through. I'm Bipolar; I've been there. Kind of. Well, not so much an asylum, wtf. Those places are no longer existent, just rotting abandoned buildings. But I've been to mental health units, etc. etc. I've met real schizophrenic people, and they're just people like you and I. With some issues, of course.

Which goes on to a point I want to make. How we portray these mental disorders might be a little fictional, stereotypical, and sometimes we might even poke fun just for the comic relief (aka, some of the delusions might be entertaining). But we still try to stay true with the disorders for the most part.

Also, the Asylum where this takes place actually existed but the descriptions of what went on in the facility aren't based on fact, they're completely fictional for the purpose of the story. You can learn more about (with before and after pictures!) the original hospital here: [opacity. us / site10_philadelphia_state_hospital_byberry. htm] Some photos and more information are located on this website: [theduke81. tripod. com/id1. html] _No spaces._

_**/PROLOGUE: INTRODUCTION/**_

Far away, in seclusion from the rest of society, lies a large expanse of buildings that stretches for miles in every which way that is visible. They are large, tall, and imposing. If you were to stand there alone, you wouldn't be able to help the eerie, overwhelmed feeling that would take over you. You also can't help but feel that the buildings could swallow you whole and trap you there forever. It is ominous and yet surreal at the same time.

An aerial view of the entire property will reveal to you four different groups of buildings. There are the North and South groups, and there are the East and West groups. The south contained some well-kept cottages, a sign that some employees could be living there.

Most, if not all, of these groups of large buildings consist of elegantly aged red brick. It is a sort of gothic-like style, well fitting for the overall feel of the property.

Between each of these groups of buildings lay a web of crumbling paths and roads; most of which only consist of dirt and rocks. In between and outside of the web of roads are large fields of patchy, drying grass. Only a few sparse trees and shrubbery are littered about these fields in no particular pattern. Some of them are dead and left to continue standing, their bare and dry branches decaying and falling apart.

The entire property as a whole is unkempt; some buildings are even dilapidated to the point where they are unfixable or would simply cost too much to fix.

But regardless of the hazards it could and would bring, the buildings that are partially broken down are still occupied to their maximum capacity. Full of broken people, full of their pain and suffering that came with them. Most of these groups of people are physically sick and are herded into these particular buildings to simply wither away to their end from the rest of the population. Medical attention is too scarce here.

Those that are not physically ill are kept from the outside world inside the larger buildings, which are also crowded well beyond the maximum capacity that these buildings were built to hold.

Inside these buildings, the conditions are deplorable. Patients here are herded like cattle, some lacking even the basic necessity: clothing. Staff either did not care or the clothing stocks are simply depleted. Most of the occupants are without a proper bed, forced to sleep upon the floor in small full rooms that lack even just minimal walking space. One would have to maneuver over a tangled mess of what consisted of their fellow roommates to travel about the room. Even then, one would also have to be quite skilled in doing so without bumping and accidently waking them. It takes a lot of trial and error.

Some (read: many) patients don't even have the luxury of a room whatsoever and are forced to sleep along the filthy walls of the dormitory wings, huddling to keep warm.

Those that are too far lost in their mind or lacking just the basics of sanity are outcast from these huddles. They are instead left to sleep with no one but themselves. But even then… the insane sometimes do not sleep and reign over the grimmest of nights. Those with rooms are only just slightly safer.

There is rape, molestation, violence, and everything else that one could imagine in their worst of nightmares here. Well, mostly.

The asylum is greatly understaffed, and those who continue to work there in the first place are corrupted and uncaring. Some may even assume that their own minds might be slipping.

The janitors themselves are so few and far in between and only take care of the worst of the worst, such as excessive fecal matter or gruesome scenery. The rest is simply left there. In result of this, the psychiatric hospital holds a stench almost unbearable for those that are not used to such a smell. Most cannot stomach it.

Beneath the buildings is an intricate system of dark tunnels with very little lighting that connects some of the buildings to one another for easier traveling and access for the staff. Some tunnels are used for the sole purpose of transporting the sick patients, and others are used to transport the dead to their last resting place: unmarked graves, never to be identified again.

And in the front and center of this isolated hell is a large administration building. It features such a grand appearance that it leaves those who set eyes on it standing in awe. This building is very well kept; greenery expands far and wide in the front and back, while the cement laid in front is to perfection. It is just too perfect… a trickery, a false image of what the hospital really is, a false comfort and encouragement for the parents and caregivers of those that needed genuine care and help.

These loving parents and caregivers admitted them with the one sole wish that they would "get better." A perfect lie given to those who really had the best intentions for their mentally ill loved ones.

But, of course, there are always the people who just don't want anything to do with the impaired person and merely dump them to this institution like trash.

Here are two of these patients whose stories are about to be told, which we will follow through to the very end. We will follow them through the tough times, through the humorous times, and through each and every event that made them who they are. Their thoughts, their actions, and their emotions laid bare to us.

Welcome to their story.


	2. One: Press Button Do Not Eat Bacon

Guess who's back, back again. Smoke's back, tell a friend. Now everyone report to the dance floor, to the dance floor, to the dance floor. Now everyone report to the dance floor. Alright STOP! …Pajama time.

Er… Anyway. For this chapter I wasn't quite sure how to take it. But one way or another I had to get the ball rolling for DonMel to take the stage. So here you are! You get… this.

Oh, since I forgot in the introduction: We don't own Death Note, or the characters from it. Yadda yadda. Stuff like that, you know the gist of it. Good. Anyway, with that out of the way I won't be mentioning it again because I hate repeating things. We good? Cool. Oh, also... the 'Just Lose It' thing? Don't own that either.

**/CHAPTER ONE/**

There are just times in your life when you'd wish you had never have woken up when you had. Just one of those days where it would be more preferable to waste your life dreaming away in some land far away from where you actually were. To a place that once occurred during a happier time in your life, or something just new and exciting in general. Something more peaceful, perhaps.

Yeah, or a place where it just didn't fucking stink so bad.

A groan broke the silence (or at least as close to a silence that you could even get in this bloody place) from underneath a messy heap of thin sheets that looked like they'd seen better days. They were torn, riddled with small holes, dirty, and smelled as if a wash was long overdue. Just thin sad pieces of cloth in general.

The heap then wriggled slightly, a sigh following not long after the initial groan. _God, it really fucking reeked._ And this heap was supposed to be used to it by now, especially after having been there for at least four full months. But yet every single time he'd wake up to reality, it'd keep hitting him hard and fast like a train with its brakes missing. One big-ass train. Or several.

Of course, it didn't help that this particular person had been dreaming of his old completely natural habitat. A rightful place on the floor in front of a large television set, its screen flickering before his eyes as his little animated character moved from scene to scene inside a video game world far away from the rest of civilization. Being isolated inside a small simple bedroom never looked better than it did now. He felt at home with his gloved thin, dexterous fingers tapping away rapidly upon the worn buttons of a game controller.

But it was, of course, all one big-ass lie the moment that ideal world shattered and the reality of hell took over. And a hell it was, there were no kinder words that could be said about it. No_ sane _person would enjoy such a place as this. But then, of course, if they were sane in the first place they would not even been here. Irony, much? Yeah.

"You know that lying there making a fuss over the smell isn't going to make it any better, right?"

He rolled over. "Yeah, I know."

"So, then… up and at 'em Matty-boy. You'll miss breakfast."

A small chuckle passed his lips, and finally a shaggy red shock of hair was revealed as it popped out of its fortress of sheets. "Alright, alright I'm up," A hand reached over to grasp out at the other person who had been speaking. "Morning…"

But his words would never reach the ears of whom he'd been speaking to. His hand only grasped at thin air and fell limply across the small bed. There was no one but himself in the room that morning. But this was not new to the redhead. It was a common thing for Matt to speak to things that were not there.

There was a long, exasperated sigh as Matt pulled himself up to sit with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed… which was surprisingly not as broken down as many others were in the institution, though it squeaked loudly under his weight. It was a common sight to see many of the beds missing a leg or two. And some you were just better off sleeping on the floor which most people did anyway, at least the ones that were not lucky enough to have the luxury of receiving a bed… at least a usable one anyway. Not that the beds were all that comfortable in the first place, but it was better than having to sleep next to some other patient who may or may not be off their rocker. It's a hit or miss situation.

It just so happened that he was also lucky enough to not be roomed with the more… deranged individuals. There are some horror stories about those who did, he learned, when actually he took the time to listen to them and that wasn't really too often. He'd rather spend his time off in his own little world secluded from the rest of the crowd. It was difficult to do even that though, since the whole damn hellhole was jammed packed. Everyone and their mom were trying to find some sort of solitude at one time or another.

The redhead scratched idly at the back of his head, his gaze fixed on the far wall ahead of him, before finally pulling himself completely off the bed. He chewed his lip some as he sauntered off toward the open door and out into the long corridor. Immediately, he scrunched his nose in a repulsed manner as the brunt of the hospital's distinct aroma assaulted his poor senses.

"Fucking stinks." He murmured to himself.

But enough of that now, there were better things to worry about… such as trying to find something edible to eat in the pitiful excuse of a cafeteria. Might as well just name it the "poison center." Hey, why not? It is as it is, there was no use lying about it. Enough people got sick from the things they called "food" when one wasn't careful or wise enough to tell what was and wasn't salvageable to eat without killing oneself by eating, say, a slice a bread.

After quite a few minutes of hall meandering and stair climbing down several floors, he had finally reached his destination.

Begin operation: find something that won't kill you.

Matt quickly made his way to the array of food. He skipped the bread selection entirely, shook his head dejectedly at the questionably soggy looking pancakes, and cringed at the overall appearance of the goop of mess they liked to call oatmeal. After about twenty to twenty-five minutes of this (there were a lot of people in line) he finally managed to find a few packets of saltine crackers and a small box of dry cereal. Something pre-packaged seemed like the safest route today.

Objective met! Gained 1500 experience points, level up!

Now there was the problem of trying to find an open seat. Oh, but to hell with trying to bother with that. You're better off trying to crawl into a mouse hole. Or something like that. So, instead, he headed out of the cafeteria and backtracked through the corridors and up a couple flight of stairs until he found a decent spot on a step in the middle of the third flight.

Once situated, he went through the process of opening his packets of saltines while taking his time trying to do it without ripping the packaging anywhere but the little fold thingmajig you're supposed to open it with. Hey, boredom does things to you. Especially when you pretty much have a lot of time to kill and not many things to kill it with. He ended up succeeding with a 2 out of 5 outcome, not bad at all. Now he had to find something else to occupy his mind with.

There was a small pause before he began to take a small bite out of each cracker one at a time, repeating this for a couple minutes contentedly until something finally came to his attention.

A shadow. There was a small shadow engulfing the redhead where he sat, now _this _was a bit strange. Not only was it a bit strange, but it was actually kind of creepy. And at this point he was bracing himself for the worst that was most likely about to happen. Maybe one of the patients decided that he looked like a good target to mess with today. And Matt wasn't actually the strongest man in the vicinity. Far from it really, his small frame could probably snap easily in two if one of the other male patients decided that he looked like a good punching bag or a decently rape-able kind of man. And most likely it was the latter.

But at that moment something struck him. The shadow was a bit too small to be a grown man, and even smaller than the average adult in general. It was then when he finally decided to look up from his half-eaten crackers to gaze upon his small intruder. A small child, approximately around the age of 7 or 8, had been standing just inches away from him and was unashamedly staring him down with wide little beady eyes. He arched an eyebrow at this, slowly lifting one of his crackers to his lips.

It quickly became a staring contest. Just one big silent staring contest that had started with no beginning or end, it just simply happened. But it was mostly because the damn little kid kept _staring _at him like he was the most interesting in the whole damn asylum. What the hell was so interesting about him? Sure, he had unnaturally bright red hair… which was in its best bed-head look to date, but that wasn't really much of a sight in a place like this.

As to who was winning, it was hard to tell. The two of them were quite skilled with not blinking for an infinite amount of time; even when he continued to slowly eat away at his crackers until they were entirely gone. When they were, he simply went to reach for his small box of cereal without breaking his gaze. Slowly, he began to open the cardboard packaging. Who knew that simply staring at some kid for so long would actually be entertaining?

And then this is where it happened. The kid's hands shot forward and grabbed the box full of cereal from the redhead's own unsuspecting hands. "H-hey!" He started, "You can't just-" Said kid interrupted him mid-sentence when the next thing he knew was that a shitload of little mini cheerios were attacking his face all at once. On instinct his arms abruptly flew up to his face to guard himself, which was rather pointless at the time since the deed was already done.

And at this point all he could do was gape as the small _brat _kid walked away as if not a thing had happened. And it was at this point in particular when he heard someone laughing.


	3. Two: Fuck This Place

/o/ We finally started! I'm so excited XD This fanfic was Matty's idea, I place all credit in his hands. n.n I apologize for how long it took me to get my chapter done.. (I think it sucks. lol Sorry. Hopefully, they'll get better.) I'm so glad that people like the story so far. Matt's writing is amazing. I'm sure you'll like the rest of it as well. ^-^ Anyway, Matty's beating me for taking so long with this author's note (D: DON'T TAKE MY CHOCOLATE I PROMISE I'M ALMOST DONE! SLAVE DRIVER!) So anyway, Enjoy! 8D ~Mello

**///////////////////CHAPTER TWO//////////////////**

The day was beautiful. The sun was out and the birds chirped their lively tunes, flitting about the softly clouded sky. It was nice and warm, picture perfect, the kind of day you'd spend playing outside or just sitting outdoors to become one with nature or what have you. It was a weekend, and the laughter of children could be heard as they rode their bikes and rollerblades and skateboards and scooters on their way to play in the park. Surely, this is the kind of day you would enjoy.

Certainly, you wouldn't plan this kind of day to be checked into an asylum.

A tall, thin woman in her mid forties sighed as she ascended the stairs to her son's room, her daughter following close behind. They didn't want to do this to him, but it had to be done. They wanted the man of the family to get better. He _would_ get better, right? Well, that's what the facility had told Ms. Keehl. And that's what she would ride on.

With a deep breath, she opened the door to her son's room. It was late morning, and he was still asleep. She crossed the room to pull back the black curtains and hesitated before turning around. When she finally did, it took some effort not to cringe.

Painful writings were carved into the wall. Writings to himself... from himself. Writings her son would sit and stare at, wondering where they came from. Did he really not know that he'd done it himself? She wished it was all just some horrible prank, that her son would turn to her one day and say, "Just kidding, mom. It was all just a joke, mom. Just a joke..."

"Mello..." She whispered, the pain evident in her tone as she moved to the side of his bed. There he lay, breathing easy, his chin-length golden hair splayed across the black pillowcase. Normally, she would disapprove of all this black in his room. But he wanted it like this, so he couldn't see those weird writings on his walls when he went to bed. She couldn't argue with that.

Mello had painted the room himself, and there were still paintbrushes and paint cans strewn about. The only carved words you could pick out easily were the newer ones. But if you looked at the black walls closely, you could see that those etchings were everywhere, on each and every wall of the good-sized room. The black made the markings less visible.

His mother's gentle hand shook him awake and ice blue hues fluttered open as Mello yawned, stretching. So this would be the day his family would send him off to the asylum. He'd never been hospitalized before. But all he had to do was cooperate and get better, and he could come home, right? So he hoped. And so it was after a quiet breakfast that he hopped into the back seat of the car, his mother and sister in front.

Mello stared out the window. In his hand was clutched a small crucifix, from a rosary hanging about his neck. He knew this was deemed sacrilegious, but... the cross offered him security. He'd gotten it after the writings on his wall started. They were unsettling. The things this person knew pissed him off. Whoever was carving these things into his walls knew things about him that he didn't care to remember. And since there was no logical way for anyone but him to enter his room with knowledge of such things as the writings contained, he had concluded that he was probably haunted by a demon or something of the sort. But everyone else thought he was crazy. Was he?

He knew they were arriving when he heard the deep sigh his mother gave whenever they were approaching someplace she didn't really want to be. Mello licked his lips and brought his eyes to look out the front windshield. And he paled. The place was huge. Scary. Intimidating. He would definitely get lost in this place! He winced and slumped back into the seat, uttering a few Hail Mary's as they pulled up into the drive.

He kept his head down as they entered and headed to an intake desk. His mother was answering a lot of questions. At least the lady sounded nice. He peeked up at the sweet sounding secretary and paled again. The woman... she looked just like his late Grandmother. After that, he didn't hear much else. He was lost in his own thoughts as the minutes passed, stirred only to look up at his older sister when she placed her hand on his arm. The secretary stood and Mello said goodbye to his family. He would miss them...

He watched his family leave and took a deep breath. He was ready to tough it up and get through this. It would only take a few weeks, right? A nurse had come to bring him in, and he followed the lady through a few halls. A faint indistinguishable scent began to catch his nose. It was strange, but he paid it no mind. The nurse brought him to a secluded room and told him to wait there for her to bring him some clothes. In the meantime, she wanted him to strip down.

Strip? The blond's brows arched at her. Sorry, but he was _not_ stripping for _any_ woman. His cold glare followed her out of the room. He waited. She returned with... a small torn blanket? Mello blinked at the fabric in her arms. No... it was clothing. Barely. He stared at her as she held the torn item out for him.

"Here. Sorry, it's all we have left."

"...Are you kidding me?"

"Look, kid. Put it on, or I'll have to call someone in here to put it on you. What's the matter? Are you nervous?"

Mello sighed. Well, _this _nurse had an attitude problem. He watched her come closer and set the clothing on the desk. But he blinked when she didn't back away. His brows furrowed as she placed a hand to his knee, making him jump in surprise. "Hey! What are you doing?" He snapped. He did not like people touching him. Not at all. Especially women.

"Just trying to calm you down a little, honey-" "Yeah? Well it's not working. In fact, you're making it worse. Alright, I'll put the damn thing on."

"Don't get your panties in a twist." She snapped back. "In fact, you'll need to take those off too. And I'll be taking this." She reached for his rosary and he nearly growled at the woman, smacking her hand away. She grew angry and left in a huff. Well, he didn't like her, either! A much nicer person came and asked him to do the same. Since they were nice he complied, albeit hesitantly.

"Do I have to know my way around this entire place?" Mello asked as they walked along a few halls. He was extremely uncomfortable in this uniform. It was an old nurse uniform. Female. And for some ungodly reason it left strips bare across his chest, had a giant hole baring his right side, and even though it went almost to his knees, it was much too short for his liking. Especially with no underwear. Had this woman been attacked by a bear? Or Freddy Kreuger, maybe? Seriously.

The nurse said she would show him around only where he needed to know. So they entered the main part of the facility, where Mello would be staying. And for the third time that day, Mello paled. He paled, and then he turned green. And he promptly retched in a corner. God... that _smell_! Is this what he'd been catching a drift of earlier? It was _horrible_. He had to live with this?

When he'd finished ridding himself of his perfectly good breakfast, he returned to the nurse. "Sorry, I just... what's that _smell_?"

"Oh, uh..." The nurse began casually as they began to head down a set of stairs. "It just kind of... smells like that here. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Mello shook his head in disbelief, following tentatively. He'd get used to _that_? He doubted that, very much. He sighed, trying not to breathe much as they continued down the stairs. The nurse showed him the room he'd be staying in and the bathrooms his section used and they were now heading to the cafeteria.

Frankly, after seeing everything else, Mello was afraid of what the cafeteria would look like. What was wrong with this place?! He was more than horrified, though the nurse acted as though nothing were out of place. Nothing wrong, with strange people lining the halls, some of them naked. Nothing wrong with the bathroom that had disgusting patches of human waste on the floors and walls. Nothing wrong with any of it? He wanted to go home. Now.

They headed down another set of stairs, assumably to the cafeteria. The first thing he saw heading down this stairwell were two people. One had obnoxiously bright red hair and the other was a small child. Having breakfast together? Maybe they were brothers.

That's what he was thinking when the smaller child suddenly grabbed the other's box of cheerios and promptly unleashed its contents into the redhead's face. Mello's hand clapped over his mouth. And he snickered. And then, unable to help himself, he began to laugh outright at the poor guy. Well… at least the people here weren't completely lacking personality.


	4. Teaser: Numb

Hey everyone, this is Smokes. I want to apologize for the long months of wait, but life hadn't been too kind to me as of late. I won't go into details, but it had prevented me from being able to focus on writing for this fic. We haven't forgotten Straightjacket, and we're trying very much to get back on track for it. DonMel is currently reworking Mello's history a bit to further fit the story a lot better as of right now. And I will be soon fixing up the chapter that I have partially written already, so look forward to that coming soon.

But some GOOD news is that I'm going to be attending college in the summer! Woohoo~! I may be doing something along the lines of forensics or something. ;D

Anyway, enjoy a small teaser chapter:

_**///////////////////TEASER CHAPTER//////////////////**_

_"Come on, Mello. We have to go..."_

_Mello blinked, his bright eyes full of question and sleepiness as he mindlessly complied, sliding out of bed and putting his clothes on. It was an odd time to visit, so late at night, but he didn't mind. He was thankful for any time he got to spend with her... especially because he knew he hadn't been spending enough of his time with her lately._

_A pillow and blanket was brought with him to the car as he and his sister curled up together for more sleep in the back seat. The drive wasn't very long, and Mello didn't feel any more rested than when he'd been woken by the time they arrived._

_Perhaps it was because he was so tired that all of this seemed like some sort of lucid dream. He moved as he was led on, but why? Was something wrong?. Why were they here? So lost in his thoughts, Mello didn't even know how they arrived at their destination. It was so late at night... couldn't the visit wait until morning? Still, he moved into the room as he was nudged inside, placing a kiss to the woman's cheek and exchanging some small conversation that he likely wouldn't remember by morning. So tired... he was so tired._

_He finally moved from the room, and no one chastised him when he curled up just outside the door, laying on the carpeted floor and falling fast asleep. _

_Nothing in his life before had ever felt more surreal than whatever was going on here and now. He wasn't sure why he couldn't seem to understand what was going on. He wasn't sure why, although he'd been here many times before, the place seemed a little different. Nothing seemed right, and yet nothing seemed wrong, either. Even when he was briefly awoken by a few people walking briskly into the room he was laying curled up outside of, nothing seemed wrong. But he was so tired... even if something was wrong, he couldn't bring himself to ask._

_God, did he wish he'd asked. _

_When he was woken the next morning, the beautiful sunshine from the day before had been replaced by grey skies, dark and rainy. A perfect match to his mood when his mother, sister, and himself were brought into a small room to be spoken to._

_What was this person saying? No. It couldn't be right. It had to be a lie. They had to be lying. __**Had to be.**_

_A small plate of fruit and vegetables was offered for them to share, and Mello found himself numbly munching on the cucumbers, to his mother and sister's surprise. He'd never liked cucumbers. Refused to eat them, in fact. Yet here he was, nibbling them idly and staring out one of the windows as the rain fell. The phone kept ringing... it was handed to him plenty of times, but couldn't even remember all the people he'd spoken to. And each time someone said, "Happy birthday!" He felt his chest heave with pain._

_This couldn't be real. Couldn't be. He felt so numb. He couldn't even remember the previous night, but he did remember one thing. One thing he would never forget so long as he lived, and would regret for the rest of his life. Something he would never forgive himself for, because it must have hurt her so badly._

_Too stubborn to believe she would ever leave him, too lost in the comfort of his friends, and too young to fully understand that the situation really was as grave as it had seemed..._

_He'd refused to say goodbye._


	5. Three: Garbage Disposal

Have mercy on me.

But not on Microshit Word. Unleash all wrath upon that, please. I spent a good long time staring at the screen WAITING for the little shit to load up the chapter. And then after that it kept freezing up on me and just INSERT PROFANITIES HERE. The things I go through for you guys, I swear. lol ;P

MICROSHIT: "LOL YOU WANT HELP? YOU'VE GOT QUESTIONS? WE'VE GOT DANCING PAPERCLIPS."

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU I'LL STICK THAT DANCING PAPERCLIP UP YOUR-

Uh anyway, I have no excuses for taking a million years to resume this fanfic. Well, I do actually. But it still wasn't fair and I'm not going to rant on about them. To put it all in just one word: stress. And that's really all I can give you for an excuse. Shit can mess you up, dude.

Oh, iTunes. You crack me up. Move bitch get out the way, bitch get out the way…

-Smokes (Matt)

xxx

**/ Chapter I can't count. /**

**/ What? Oh fine. /**

**/ CHAPTER THREE /**

It's one thing to be embarrassed about having some kid throw a bunch of Cheerios at you, but it was a whole different thing to have some kid throw a bunch of Cheerios at you and then have someone _witness _it and outright laugh. Yeah, that wasn't really very high on the fun and awesome scale. In fact, it was _far below _it. Although… he couldn't say he wasn't already quite used to being laughed at due to past events and occurrences. It had been a while, though, considering the fact that this place was so fucked up that it was pretty much guaranteed that someone is going to do something even more freakish than you ever did and will ever do.

With a frown he rose from his spot on the stairs and stood stiffly, brushing himself off of the breakfast food product and still trying to look dignified while doing so. It wasn't really working so well, but at least he tried. Male pride can be a pain in the ass, true fact. He gave a heavy sigh before finally turning to face the person who dared make fun of his personal dilemma.

There stood one of the most intriguing people he had ever seen. Was it a girl? Was it a guy? He couldn't even tell; the gender was so ambiguous. One thing was for certain though: if it weren't for the current circumstances, he'd have actually found he/she/it quite attractive. Which could be good or bad because he definitely was _not_ a homosexual. So… here's to hoping that it was a female. But still, being laughed at wasn't very fun and so he wasn't quite keen to giving the other any sort of chance to be attracted to them. …For the time being.

With _that _aside, he took note of what the other was wearing. Which, in short, was basically an old ratty outfit that must have previously belonged to one of the nurses. Poor thing. That is, if he had the will to care, which he did _not_. But let's get back to the matter at hand.

"Fuck you, mind your own fucking business." Yeah, that sounded like a good start.

What he got in response was a smirk, and then an almost wicked grin on that pretty little face. Okay, that was kind of creepy-looking. This person is now officially a creeper in Matt's book just for that expression alone. _Then_ said creeper spoke, "Kinda hard when you make a show of it, smartass. Is that your best trick, or do you spill everything else, too?"

Matt sneered in response. Oho, who exactly was the smartass here? What a fucking hypocrite. And from the sound of it… this person was absolutely male. Had to be. Well, now that's just awkward. Let's ignore the fact that Matt might have been checking him out, shall we? "Is that your dick? I think your dress is too tight."

Sore spot. Who'd have thought a person could turn a pale shade of milky white to beet red in anger within 30 seconds? This guy did. His smirk vanished so quickly one would have missed it even being there if they blinked. Guess he wasn't so fond of that little dress they'd stuck him in.

Truth be told, it wasn't anything special or unique. He wasn't the only one to have been a male victim being stuck in something such as those. There were a few other men here and there walking around in those kinds of garments when the staff thought they were pretty enough for it (or they were simply stolen). But, really, the guy should be lucky he even had clothing in the first place. A great deal of the patients walked around butt naked, and this guy would find this out soon enough.

"Hey look asshole! Why don't you just go fuck off with your little friend, alright? I sure hope you can run fast becau-"

"Alright, kids, that's enough!" About time the woman stepped in (hey, who is she calling a kid?). Honestly, the staff in this place probably should be admitted, too. Their own heads weren't exactly screwed on right themselves. You know there is something wrong with them when you've been here long enough to witness most of the corruption that took place. And it was pretty twisted, ugly even. One time Matt caught a pair of male doctors "testing" the pills they were supposed to be distributing to the patients. Yeah, _real nice_.

The red head gave a scoff and turned away without another word spoken. He began to walk down the steps in a rather lazy stride, brushing off the bickering as quickly as it had happened. It wasn't worth it to dwell on something as unimportant as that. He just hoped that he wouldn't be running into this guy often because he could tell that this one would be a real fucking prissy asshole.

"Oh, _Matthew_," the nurse began as soon as he started to walk away. _Shit._

He stiffened and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He hated that name. It wasn't even his real name! But besides that, the fact that she called him out meant trouble. And he had a pretty good idea of what exactly it would be. With a heavy sigh, he slowly turned around to flash her a questioning glance.

The nurse continued. "Since you're so readily available, how about you take Mihael here on a grand tour of the place. He's going to be rooming with you, after all." _Fantastic._ "So why don't you boys just run along now and enjoy each other's company, alright?" She asked, flashing a smile to someone standing above the three of them on another landing. Ah, yes, a very fabulous display of the slutty nature of the staff. 'Play' first, work later. Priorities, gotta love 'em.

The nurse gave this 'Mihael' guy a rough pat on the back before skipping up the steps to meet up with her date of the day, or to be more precise, her 'dick' of the day. …And then they were off. The boys were left standing dumbfounded upon the steps. Or at least this 'Mihael' guy was rather dumbfounded, anyway. After living there for a while, you kind of get used to that sort of thing.

As predictable as it was for him, Matt still did not like the fact that he was now responsible for giving some feminine-looking blond jackass a tour of the shitty institution. Hell, "grand" was not even the correct word to use for the place. There was nothing "grand" about it. And the thing about enjoying each other's company? …Basically, it's not happening any time soon from the look of things. That's like playing WoW and running into a twenty-five person mob alone yelling "LEEEEEROOOYYY JENKINNNSSSSS" and thinking you'd make it out alive. Yeah, not happening.

After some minutes of himself staring blankly at the blond beast, he gave a sort of snort and turned away once more to just… pretty much ditch the guy, for he had better things worth his time. Hey, if the guy was lucky enough… maybe he'll only get his ass raped once before he learned the ropes. Not that he cared. When you're in a place like this long enough, you start to become apathetic towards these sorts of things. Compassion and concern goes out the window.

He hadn't made it more than a few steps away, however, before the patter of footsteps reached his ears. The red head rolled his eyes and paused on the next landing down, glancing over his shoulder to find - sure enough - nurse Barbie following close behind. He heaved a heavy sigh. He'd rather be spending his day alone than in the company of this asshat.

"Hey," _it_ began. The voice was already annoying. "Pardon me for interrupting, Captain Jackass, but I do believe you owe me a tour. If you have to go somewhere, fine. But I'm coming with you. I don't give a shit what you think about me. If you think I'm going off on my own in this fucking psycho place, you've got another thing coming." _It_ then frowned and gave a sigh, folding his arms across his chest.

Matt groaned in agitation, lifting one hand to slowly run it through his matted hair. Once upon a time Matt used to have patience worth envying over, but that time had long since passed its prime. His nerves and all else have frizzled into something unrecognizable from his old self.

"I'm going to just give it to you straight," he began bluntly while he faced away from the other. "No one here is going to give you an ounce of politeness and you're just going to have to fucking get used to it. No one is going to help you, feel for you, or care for you. We're all dead to the world, and we're all dead inside. You want something out of your nightmares? Well, you've found it. This is the closest thing to hell you're ever going to get. Welcome to your new permanent place of existence because _no one _ever leaves. Home is so very far away and out of reach. Your family won't be here for you and your friends are gone. No one wants you. You are defective. A reject. They've sent you to the garbage disposal. And soon you will feel yourself rot away inside, and you will find yourself so very _alone._ No one is going to help you here. This is the reality of this situation. So yes, you're off on your own now. However,"

Matt at this point grabbed the blond male by the arm and roughly tugged him down the rest of the steps and down the hall toward some rather ominous-looking metal double doors. It wasn't long before he was throwing those heavy doors open and shoving the blond inside. "Here's your introduction."

**/ xxx rewind xxx /**

"_Mail."_

"_Not right now, I'm busy."_

"_Mail, this is important."_

"_Busy," he repeated. _

_Of course he was. This was a hell of a much more important thing than whatever his uncles had to say to him. They could wait. Right now he was doing a heroic dungeon with his elite guild. They were the best (in his opinion) and they were going to make history. Today they were going to be the first to defeat this boss on this particular server and they were so incredibly close. Just a little bit more…_

"_Your grades are falling." So what else is new? He didn't even bother answering to that. What was there to say? Hell, it wasn't as if he was paying much attention to them anyhow._

"_You never come out of your room anymore." _

"_SHIT. Guys, careful on the aggro! Fuck, you're pulling too much. Take it easy on the DPS, let the tank build up his threat first. Alright, look… if we can just—"_

_Silence. The screen had gone black; hell the whole computer had shut off. _No. _This couldn't be happening. With a shaking hand, Mail snatched the cigarette that was in danger of falling from his lips during his shock and horror. _No. No. NO. _They were so damn close. This could _NOT _be happening. He placed the cigarette down into the nearby tray. _No. _His guild would fail without him. They were probably all _dying _right now. All that work, all that careful planning, all those hours… wasted. Gone. _

_Mail did the only logical thing he could do at the moment. He screamed and yanked the keyboard from the computer, throwing it in the direction of whoever had _dared_ turn off the power surge protector. It missed, though it had quite literally shattered against the wall it had hit, its keys and plastic pieces clattering across the hardwood floor. "DO YOU HAVE _ANY_ IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE! FUCK YOU. GET OUT. GET OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" Yes, Mail was furious, beyond furious! Enraged!_

"_No, Mail. This needs to stop. You cannot keep going on like this! Look at you, listen to you! This isn't who you are. You're barely eating and you're barely sleeping. Your body is practically all skin and bone! No one recognizes you anymore. You lock yourself up in your room and have been missing school for-"_

"_Why the hell does it matter about what I do with my life? Clearly it's fucked anyway, isn't it? Why the hell can't you people just leave me the fuck alone? I don't go barging into your rooms and mess with _your _shit."_

_His uncles did not answer him; instead they only stared at him with grave-looking expressions. Why? What on earth would…? _

_It was here that he finally noticed the pair of strangers standing just outside his bedroom door. This was new, and Mail suddenly felt threatened. Uneasy. Something definitely was not right with this picture. And to make it worse, the two strangers were staring at him as if he was to be pitied, as if he was some broken thing, as if they thought they understood him just by studying him in that creepish sort of way. The expression on their faces seemed inhuman, their mouths tight and straight-lined._

"_What is this?" The red head's voice by now was falsely calm, an automatic reaction to pretend he wasn't bothered. His uncles would know better, of course. Though his stiff, tense posture would have given him away regardless._

_They fidgeted. It was too quiet, the atmosphere too heavy, and he was sure he was starting to feel sick from the building of this uneasy feeling. "…Guys?"_

"_You cannot stay here anymore. You're sick, Mail. These guys can help you. It's for your best interest."_

"_You can't be serious."_

"_Mail…"_

"_I'm not sick."_

"_We've seen the things you've done when you thought you were alone, Mail. We've also heard from the school about your… episodes."_

"_There's nothing wrong with me, I don't need help."_

_It was here that the two strange men decided to move into the room. In one of the stranger's hands was what appeared to be a needle of some sort. Immediately his eyes widened behind the amber lenses of his goggles and he scrambled to the furthest corner of the room in panic. Needles. He hated needles. "It's for your own good, Mail… We're only trying to help you." _

"_I just told you I don't need it! What the hell is that shit! Stay away from me!" But there was nothing he could do to prevent the two men from cornering him. There was nothing he could do to stop them from tackling him to the ground. Nothing he could do to stop the man with the needle from jabbing that thing into him. And there was absolutely nothing that could stop his mind from slowing down, to stop his vision from blackening into nothing._

_Nothing. Empty. Dark. Alone._

"_We're sorry."_

_Lies._

/ x /

_White, black, white, black. Why couldn't the damn thing just stay one color? The black was more preferable since the white was too blinding and bright. But of course it would do the opposite of what he wished for. It was only natural since the world revolved around unfairness and spite. It certainly had enough of it to share with him at every opportune moment. This would be one of them._

_He groaned, attempting to turn in his apparent lying position to something more comfortable. Whatever it was that he laid upon was hard, cold, and stiff. Strange. However, something stopped him from completing his movement. He was stuck. More descriptively: all of his wrists and ankles felt restrained by something harsh and unrelenting. What part of this was normal? Yeah, that's right: nothing._

_The white light flooded his eyes all at once when they snapped open, his body struggling in its restraints. What the hell was this? It had to be a nightmare, something he could laugh about when he woke. And yet the smell that assaulted him felt a little too real to even bear. It reminded him of a familiar uneasy, sick feeling. Upon remembering why, he heaved and turned his head to the side as he felt that bile rise up._

"_Oh, the new patient is awake. I suppose an introduction is in order, yes?"_

_He threw up._

**/ AN /**

**My writing might be a little rusty right now since I haven't been exercising it in a while, but I'm hoping that it'll kick back up to par real soon as I finally get back into the groove of things.**

**I want to thank everyone for the reviews, alerts, and favorites. Without these, I wouldn't even have the drive to continue this fanfic. It's really true when they say that these kinds of things can keep an author writing. Well, at least an author like me. ;P But I'm not one to beg for them, so I won't. But thanks a million! **

flamablechoklit**: You are such a doll. Thank you for the messages, they mean a lot to us. (Plus you're just hilarious. A+) And you've actually managed to make me feel the most guilty about not updating this fic in a while. Ahhhh!**

Lily and Shadow**: Thank you for the constructive criticism, it's much appreciated. We are always trying to improve and it's nice to have someone give us a little push in the right direction. **

reenkittenkid4** and **MelloXMatt4Ever**: Haha, we're sorry about the ambiguity of everything at the moment but we absolutely promise that everything will be gradually revealed and explained layer by layer. ;P**


	6. We're making a comeback

Hey everyone. This is Teke or "Matt" as you all have previously known me as and can continue to call me that if you so wish. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. "WHAT DA FAWK GAIZ WHAR HAV U BEEN AND OMG DIS NOT B A CHAPTORRR," right? Okay, maybe in a more intelligent sort of way but it's generally the same idea.

The both of us have had… a pretty rough time with things that had occurred over the past… ten months. Wow, it's almost been a year since we last updated. Snap. Well, slap my ass and call me naughty. Or something to that effect. Though if you slapped my ass and called me naughty, I don't think I would dislike it all the much. Herp derp.

Now, to the matters about this fic because talk about slapping my ass and calling me naughty is completely irrelevant to what I am trying to say. My tangents. Deal with them.

We are going to resume writing this. Especially since my writing muse for this fic is running full speed at me like a train with no brakes and ohhh my good it hurts. It huuuuurts. HURTS SO GOOD.

But along with resuming it, I am going to go through Matt's chapters and slightly rewrite them. A lot has happened over the past almost-year and one of the things that have evolved is how I write Matt. I think it's a huge improvement. At least in my opinion. It's enough of a change that when I reread through this fic I was like… "Oh damn, fuck. I need to fix this."

So there you have it. We're coming back and with some fixer-uppers thrown in.

And yes, we already have the next chapter being worked on as I write this.

Does anyone even care anymore? Ahh, shit. Probably not. OH WELL.

-Teke

(This will be removed and replaced with the upcoming chapter in due time.)


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